Touch
by Malvolia
Summary: Rogue is interrupted in the middle of feeling sorry for herself. Set in the XMen Evo universe, but past where the series left off.


Rogue had always wanted what she didn't have.

When things were calm, she wanted adventure. When things got adventurous, she wanted peace and quiet. When things calmed down, she would get bored. So she went on, back and forth, growing comfortable with her dissatisfaction.

When an unsettling satisfied feeling would begin to come over her, she would make her way to a dimly lit corner in a highly frequented room of the Institute and watch people. She would watch them, counting the times they touched—made skin-to-skin contact. It didn't matter whether or not the contact were deliberate. She counted all kinds. Each touch one she could never have. Each touch a blow. And in this way she reminded herself she was unhappy with things as they were.

There was a time she didn't have to do it very often.

"_Chere_?"

Rogue started. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me when I'm in a corner," she said.

"Just natural-born skill, _chere_," said Gambit, easing himself onto the ground beside her. They sat in silence for a while.

"What're we doing?" 

"I'm…doing my own thing," she said. "How should I know what you're doing if you don't."

She looked back at the room. Kurt was teasing Kitty, and she tweaked his ear in response. Bobby and Jubilee had string looped over their hands in a variation on Cat's Cradle, and Amara was guiding their fingers as they tried to figure out the next move. Scott and Jean entered, holding hands.

"Tell me," he said.

"Tell you what?"

"What that big sigh was for."

She avoided eye contact. He had some strange power to charm her into saying things she never revealed to anyone else. She was pretty sure it was something about his eyes.

"Rogue. _Chere_."

Or maybe it was the voice. Too bad she couldn't avoid that as easily as the eyes.

"What are you doing here, Remy?"

"Talking to you, what else?"

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"You're not going to get anything out of it."

"Get anything?"

"Whatever it is you want." She brushed a strand of hair behind one ear. "Whatever you're in this for. You're not getting it."

"Thought I was getting you."

Abruptly, she turned to face him.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

His eyes widened and his head moved back so quickly it almost—just almost—thudded into the wall.

"Well?"

He put his knees up and slung his arms over them casually. "You know I do, _chere_."

"Yeah," she said. "And you probably want to hold my hand, and push my hair behind my ear, and all that stuff, too."

He looked away.

"_That's_ what you're not getting out of it," she said, her voice low.

His jaw clenched. "Why are you here, Rogue?" he said.

"Here at the Institute?"

"You know what I mean," he said.

"No, I…."

"Here away from everybody else. You think I don't see it? You think I don't see you come away here on your own, special like, so you can cringe every time anybody touches anybody?"

She shrugged.

"Well, fine." He pushed himself to his feet. "You want to be alone, I'll leave you alone."

"It's for your own good!" she said, standing as he did and following him from the room. "You should be with somebody who can be with you. In…all the ways that means."

Gambit spun around at her. "Just for a second, quit being sorry for yourself and hear me."

She gaped at him, dumbfounded.

"What do you think of me, _hein_? You think Gambit can't handle being in a relationship where he's gotta keep his hands to himself? You think I'm hanging around 'cause I don't have anything better to do? Maybe you can't kiss me without landing me in a coma, but I've never felt worse for sitting next to you. I've never felt better than when you smile at me. You and your crazy, wild ideas and your Southern twang and your stiff-necked stubborn pride and your…your…_everything_ about you.

"You want to know what I'm in this for? I'm in this for you, _chere_. _You _touch me."

She sniffed. "Remy, I…."

"Not that you aren't the most touchable-looking woman I've ever seen," he tacked on. She laughed and threw her arms around his neck.

"Idiot," she said.

He grinned. "Two of a kind."


End file.
